orange crush
by parisindy
Summary: Tag that takes Place after and during episode 204 – all spoilers apply.
1. Chapter 1

**Orange Crush by Parisindy- 2017 – A MacGyver 2016 fanfic**

TITLE: Orange Crush

AUTHOR: Parisindy

DISCLAIMER: No money was received or exchanged.  
I do not own MacGyver or any of its Characters.  
This is purely for fun.

NOTES: Tag that takes Place after and during episode 204 – all spoilers apply.

A lot of better writers have written about this but I hope you guys don't mind that I have thrown my hat into the ring. I have written a lot of fanfic in the past but it's been a long time, and I am pretty rusty. This is my first attempt at writing for this fandom. I am an avid reader and lurker though and would appreciate any kind comments you have to offer.

Thanks for Reading. - Paris

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I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush  
(Collar me, don't collar me)  
I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush  
(We are agents of the free)  
I've had my fun and now it's time  
To serve your conscience overseas (over me, not over me)  
Coming in fast, over me

\- REM song lyrics

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When Angus MacGyver was a kid, he used to like drinking orange crush soda. He had a very clear memory of sitting on an old milk crate sipping the stuff while his dad worked on the engine of some decrepit motorcycle. The memory was from when he was very small because he remembered needing two hands to hold the can and how his Mother would scold his father whenever he bought him one. She would complain about the sugar and how there were much healthier things a boy his age could be drinking. His father would smile and wink at his son in a mischievous manner; _"Men needed the hard stuff when working on motors'_ , he would reply. Angus would laugh at their antics and remind his dad that his mother knew just as much about motors as they did and that his mom was very smart. His father would then nudge him, with a grin on his face, 'do you want the soda or not?'

MacGyver had a near perfect memory, but even he had to question _that_ memory at times. It seemed too idyllic, too normal, to be real. It was only a few months after that moment that his mom first got sick and in some ways that orange crush became a symbol… it had been the beginning of the end. Now endings he knew, he understood those. Everyone always left him sooner or later. So, was this simple, little, happy memory a dream? It was hard to tell, especially at this moment. Everything seemed like a dream right now. But then again, there had been an evil murder with needles and drugs, so maybe right now was not the best time to speculate on the concreteness of reality.

He staggered and fell to his hands and knees...water… cold. He blinked, his vision of his surroundings blurry. Where was he again? Oh yeah, escaping from Murdock. He was in an aqueduct under the building; round cylindrical, rusted metal…reminding him vaguely of what it might be like to be inside an orange crush can. He never drank the soda again after his mom died. He and his dad never worked on that engine again.

'Oh, MacGyver! Come out and play!' The eerie voice floated down the tunnel, shaking him from his drug-fueled memories. Man, he hated Murdock and dammit he missed Jack, but more than anything MacGyver hated the loss of control. He needed to get away, regroup, and get his mind straight.

He needed to run.

Everything became pretty jumbled after that. He remembered running, tripping, weird sounds echoing, and bouncing through the tunnel. _Was that footsteps behind him?_ There was an opening upwards, a manhole cover, lots of cars, and very bright lights.

The next moment of awareness didn't come until he jolted awake as a doctor moved a penlight in and out of his eyes repeatedly; his heart pounded. _Where was he? Murdock? Run!_ He gasped for air, confusion fueling his panic. The kind-faced doctor smiled at him as she took his pulse. 'Take a deep breath Agent MacGyver.'

'Bud, you're okay.' The soft familiar voice came from the other side. _Oh God, it was Jack._

Mac nearly flung himself at the older man. Jack was a safety net in a very turbulent sea. He was his partner, his brother. He had been so stupid to push him away in Paris.

'You're here! I knew you would come.'

Jack pushed Mac gently back down on the medical bed. 'Not that I don't appreciate your enthusiasm kid, but this is the sixth time you've been happy to see me in the last half hour and I've not gone anywhere since we found you. 'Jack's southern drawl was like a balm to the younger man's nerves.

'Six times?'

'Yeah, you've been pretty confused. That evil bastard dosed you up good.'

Mac closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. _Jack was here._ He could breath, for a moment.

He must have fallen asleep, or something, he seemed to have a very loose grip on time at the moment, but once again he was aware of the bright light blasting into his eye. Mac batted the doctor's hand away with an annoyed grunt and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as he sat up.

'Jeeze, Enough.'

The doc stepped back and made some notes on her tablet. Jack stepped forward, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. 'Hey now, it's not the Doc's fault, we're all just worried about you.'

Once the spots from his eyes cleared a bit he could just see just how much. The creases on his best friend's forehead seemed deeper and his eyes were red with exhaustion. Mac sighed, 'I know, sorry, it's just been a really long day… week, month. Erg, I don't even know anymore.' He waved his hands in the air, as he if was physically dismissing his own rambling thoughts. He just wanted to get away for a while, maybe he could take a small vacation to Nevada, he had liked it there once. For now, though, they needed to stop Murdock.

Mac jumped as the doctor, apparently not having gone far, appeared back at his side and unexpectedly put her hand on his wrist, taking his pulse. 'How about you lie back, Agent MacGyver. The sooner we can get your exam over with, the faster we can figure out what drug you were given and the faster we can let the rest of your co-workers in here to see you. They seem rather worried.'

Mac tried to focus on the doctor's face. She sounded pleasant enough, but the drugs were still messing with him big time and her face began to blur. He wanted to sit… he didn't want to lie down. He felt so damned vulnerable and that was not a feeling he was comfortable with.

'Actually, I think I am much better now.'

Off to his right somewhere, he heard Jack snort through his nose. 'You've been thinking a lot of stupid stuff lately Mac and the stuff Murdock gave you has not helped one Lolita.'

'Iota,' Mac mumbled automatically.

Jack chuckled quietly, 'Good to hear that big brain of yours isn't completely broken, now let the doc take a look at you.'

Mac's thoughts rambled through his head like marbles in a blender, but the pure instinct to get away kept his body tense. Did he want to run after Murdock or away from him? He was exhausted and wired at the same time. Dammit, he hated drugs. It had already been too long and they needed to find Murdock. He was trying to get to his feet before he even realized it himself. The doctor and Jack both grabbed an arm pulling him back down. The world spun on its axis but he was determined to gain some control.

'Sit.' Jack pointed a finger at him in warning.

'I was just going to…'

'No, sit.'

'Not a dog, Jack.' He groused but complied as the overwhelming dizziness swept over him once more like a roller-coaster. With the doctor's and Jack's help, he laid back down on the medical bed, but this time the room just seemed to spin faster. He closed his eyes, hoping it would help. He really needed the world to just slow down for one damned second. He felt like he was trying to think through an inch of mud. Everything was just heavy, slow and murky, but annoyingly his emotions were floating right at the top and that was no good at all.

'I feel fine, I should go,' he tried to convince anyone who would listen, but the truth was that he was feeling seriously claustrophobic. 'I should talk to Riley, I ….' He started to rise, but once again was stalled by Jack's meaty hand on his shoulder. Mac's face flushed with sweat and annoyance.

'I'm fine!' he tried to iterate, turning to face his partner.

'I'm over here buddy,' Jack's voice came from the other direction.

'Dammit,' Mac swore under his breath as he gripped the sheets beneath him in an attempt to keep the bed still. As much as he wanted out, in his current state he couldn't tell up from down and he was beyond frustrated.

'Hey man, this isn't you, take a breath and relax.' Jack's voice was kind and steady, even though it probably shouldn't have been after all that had happened recently.

He listened to his friend and took a deep breath to steady himself. Jack might play dumb a lot but he was anything but. Mac trusted him, he was Mac's rock. And right now, he really needed a rock to keep his emotions from sweeping him away.

 _Rocks_ …. his brain flooded him with yet memories of his childhood and his grandfather.

 _Angus MacGyver ran his fingers lightly down the strange rock wall. It felt smooth like glass, but left a strange residue on his fingers, turning the tips bright orange, as if he had indulged in a late-night snack of Cheetos. The air was a bit stale but otherwise warm and comfortable. He sniffed the air using all his senses to take in the wonder of where they were, even touching his tongue to his fingers, which tasted vaguely of dirt and salt._

 _His grandfather chuckled behind him, 'What would your mother think of me, allowing you to revert back to eating dirt like you did when you were three.'_

 _The young MacGyver frowned slightly, 'what does it matter what she would think, she's not here, and I never ate dirt.'_

 _'Come on Angus, none of your attitude, we were having a nice time, plus I have the photos to prove it'_

 _He hmphed out loud, in a vain attempt to maintain his twelve-year-old pride. But his grandfather was right, as always, and he tried to swallow down his random anger. Since his Dad took off, he had become overly sensitive at any mention of either of his parents._

 _'Sorry Gramps, I really do like it here.'_

 _Angus turned his focus back to the cave walls, well not really a cave to be truthful, just a narrow pathway between two very large orange rocks that had been eroded by wind and time. His grandfather had taken him on this road trip to the Valley of Fire State Park in Nevada because he believed the young man "needed a change of scenery." Angus shrugged; despite the cause, he was enjoying it._

 _It was quiet and he was able to slow his brain even if it was just for a minute or two. He was smarter than most kids his age, or so he was always being told. His thoughts were always buzzing and analyzing. He had been given so many tests after his grandfather had to apply for custody of him. Since neither parent was around to sign over their rights, the state got involved and they were visited by social workers and then later psychologists and so on. That was when he was officially recognized as a 'gifted child'. His grandfather said it wasn't exactly a shocking revelation. Yet the one thing that was interesting was the possibility of him having the diagnosis of 'low latent inhibition'. Angus was unable to block out periphery information so his brain just processed everything around him all at once. Which explained why his brain seemed to be running at full speed all the time and how he could just improvise...well everything. When he looked at a chair or a lamp, he would just see all the pieces and how they fit together. So when he needed something, he didn't see the point of asking for it or going to the store to get one, he would just build it. No toaster or radio was safe when he was around. But "with great power came great responsibility" as his comic-loving friend Bozer would always say. All the noise and constant input was exhausting, especially for a kid still trying to wrap his emotions around the loss of two parents._

 _So, he liked it here, in Nevada, everything just moved at a different pace. It was just his grandfather, petrified wood and red sandstone for miles and miles. Even the birds didn't seem in a hurry he noticed as he looked up at the hawk that coasted slowly by looking for prey. It slowly kited on the wind, dipping and bobbing._

 _Suddenly the hawk seemed to change course. Angus raised his hand to block the sun so he could see it more clearly. It seemed to have found its prey and started to dive straight downwards towards Mac. It let out a shrieking scream as it got closer and closer, its talons extended towards his face._

 _'No!' he yelled in fright._

'Hey now brother, bad dream?' A hand clasped the back of is neck, grounding him. _Jack was here._ He blinked, looking around and noticed Bozer, Riley, Sam and Matty were also nearby.

Mac nodded, taking a deep breath to compose himself, sitting up slowly, hoping his friends and colleagues wouldn't notice how fast his heart was beating. His arm was now bandaged and his brain, though still a bit sluggish, didn't feel quite as clogged. The room was no longer churning and that was a definite plus. He rubbed at his chest which still ached vaguely from the Taser strike, but overall, he was feeling much better.

His team started peppering him with questions. At first, he didn't mind, the case was still ongoing, but with the drugs still in his system, the input was too much. Suddenly, Sam Cage cleared the room of everyone but Mac, her and Riley. Mac rubbed his eyes and felt more than a bit anxious when Jack went in too the viewing room a few feet away. His partner wasn't far away, but his absence was felt instantly. Sam was new and he didn't know her that well.

Then she turned to him, 'let's play a bit of a game.'

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Management

Chapter 2

NOTES: Takes Place before and during episode 204 – all spoilers apply.

Thanks for ReadingIf I did not respond to your reviews its because I was having some weird issues with the site. I am very grateful for them! Thanks for Reading! - Paris. - Paris

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Part 2

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Mac would never admit that the memory game session with Cage was tough, he had still felt loopy and emotional, but she had helped him to remember what they needed to know. The math and being able to move around a bit had helped him to clear his head a bit too, but between the jet lag from Paris, and the stress of the day, and the left-over drugs in his system he was exhausted. As Jack drove them to the suspected location of what his partner was calling 'the lair' he was able to catch his breath from all the action for the first time. Did he want to go back to the room where Murdoc had him cuffed and drugged? Not particularly, but right now with Jack by his side and the sun shining through the car window warming his face, he felt safe, and his eyes closed of their own accord.

Angus MacGyver was 15 and sitting in the small room right outside the principal's office. It was probably once a secretary's room back in the 50's. It was a small, nearly closet-like space, which had a half wall with a glass partition, separating him from Principal Saul's desk. It was not the first time he had sat in this room, but this time he did feel like he didn't deserve to be. Okay, maybe he and Bozer had blown up the locker of one of the football jocks. But the kid had been bullying poor Penny, one of the freshman girls. Penny was pretty and nice and smelled like strawberry lip gloss, she didn't deserve the lewd things that the football player has been saying about her. And okay, _maybe_ he had blown up the locker, and Bozer had been acting as a lookout, but as Bozer said, the cause was righteous. Mac did feel slightly bad about the damage; the explosion had been a smidge bigger then he predicted. He offered to repair any school property that may have been damaged, but as of yet, no one had accepted his plea bargain. Angus huffed in frustration as he sat, why did he just have to sit here? Were they hoping he would crumble and beg for forgiveness? No way, that football jerk Corey Meyer deserved the fright he got, it's a good thing the athlete had extra workout pants in the football locker room. The memory of that brought a small smile to his face.

Mac's smirk quickly disappeared when a figure entered the small alcove. He hadn't considered they might call him; it wasn't that big of a deal, it was only a tiny bomb. But now he felt more than a little sick inside.

'Grandpa!?'

'I don't want to hear it, Angus.' His grandfather's voice had never sounded so cold and distant before. His grandfather hadn't been feeling well lately, his face always looking grey and sunken, but even worse than that was the look of disappointment that dulled his eyes. Angus stood, not sure if he should go to his grandfather or run from the room, which suddenly felt stuffy and was making him nauseous.

'Grandpa, I'm…' His grandfather brushed passed him to knock on the principal's door. The silent dismissal hit him like a freight train and he stood there for more than a moment, stunned.

His grandfather went into the principal's office and closed the door behind him. It was a few minutes before Mac realized he could hear the murmur of voices through the glass partition.

'….I know we have chalked up his past behaviors to boredom and frustrations, but this has gone too far this time Mr. Jackson. He made a bomb!'

Angus could hear his grandfather sigh, 'Will this ruin his fast-track application to MIT?'

'I really can't say at this point. The Meyer's are threatening to sue the school; if they take legal action it could have even more dire effects that just his education after high school.'

'What do you mean?'

'Mr. Jackson, as smart as Angus is, he may have some emotional issues, and he is still a minor. The state might start to look at your ability to take care of the boy.'

'Garbage, he just needs direction. He is too smart for his own good.'

'And can you offer him that direction? I realize you have been ill….'

Angus couldn't listen any longer. Was Principal Saul threatening to call social services? His grandfather wasn't that sick, was he? He couldn't lose him like he had his parents. His mind raced, how did everything suddenly get so out of control? Angus could feel the panic building, his heart pounded and his breath started to come in gasps, so he ran.

Mac jerked awake when Jack grasped his shoulder. His friend smiled at him but concern bled from his eyes. 'We're here bud, are you sure you are up for this? '

Mac scrubbed his face, trying to clear out the cobwebs. 'Yeah, sure.'

Jack didn't believe him for a second, 'Look I know you, maybe even better then you know yourself. And I know you don't want me to go all helicopter parent on you. Especially because I know you are desperately trying to seek some control over things, but Murdoc is a psycho. You can't control insanity. You've had a craptacular few days. No one would fault you if you wanted to go back the Phoenix and wait this thing out. Hell, I wish you would.'

Mac forced a smile at his best friend's concern. 'In some ways, I wish I could too, but as you said, you know me.'

Jack frowned as he jabbed his finger at his partner's chest. 'Fine, let's catch this bastard, but then I am sleeping on your couch while I drink your beer.'

Mac smiled for real this time. 'Deal.'

Things got slightly better after that. He found it really tough walking back into _that_ room. But focusing on his job helped. Bozer found some burnt photos and with a portable x-ray machine and a penny Mac was able to sort out some new clues. They tracked down the 5th-grade teacher, and even though there was a bit of a hiccup, the gunfight was kind of fun. Maybe he was just as nuts as Murdoc at this point, but when the bullets flew, he and Jack were at their best. This was their kind of normal, and right now he needed as much _'normal'_ as he could get. But as was his life, he was never that lucky.

The convoy had arrived and Cage loaded Henry, the teacher, in the Humvee. Mac joined Jack for a moment leaning against the hood. Mac had to apologize then for Paris. How the tables had turned. Was it only a few days ago that he tried to chase jack off in France? And now there was like an invisible string between the two of them. Neither was really willing to be more than a few feet away from the other, without there being instant anxiety. The codependency would fade with time, but never completely. They were two halves to the whole. And that was the crux of it really, and why Mac had tried to chase Jack off in the first place. His grandfather died while he was at MIT, not by choice but yet another person to leave him. Then we Mac realized he was in love with Frankie, and that was a relationship that was not going to happen, Mac had reached his breaking point. The loss, the heart-ache, it was all too much. Like when his grandfather had taken him to him to Nevada, he has needed a change of scenery and a new start. So, he quit MIT and joined the Army. He had been so young and stupid back then, thinking he didn't need anyone. Pena, then later Jack, slowly beat his nihilism out him. Yet when things got really bad, it was just so easy to revert back to that way of thinking, which he was better off alone. It was his default emotional state, and sometimes he just needed to be reminded, even though he was super smart, sometimes he could still be pretty dumb too. He should never have yelled at Jack in Paris and he truly was sorry.

Apologies made, with promises of more lectures to come from Jack, they too got into the oversized vehicle. It had been a long day and he was looking forward to putting this behind him.

But fate laughed at him once again. As he was still adjusting his seat belt, Jack let out a yell from the driver's seat and hit the brakes. Mac didn't even have time to brace himself, there was a flash, an explosion and Mac didn't remember much after that.

TBC (one more chapter)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

NOTES: Takes Place before and during episode 204 – all spoilers apply.

A small tiny nod to episode 211 of 'SEALS Team'

Thanks to Eljay for the beta!

Sorry for the delay getting this posted Thanks for Reading and reviewing. - Paris

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Part 3

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Mac was just shy of 18 when he started his third year at MIT. He was in a lab class when one of the dean's assistants taped him on the shoulder and told him the Dean wanted to see him. He smiled at his lab partner Frankie and told her he would be right back. She waved him off not even looking up from the equations she was doing on a pad of paper beside her experiments. Mac did his best to act cool but there was a weird feeling in his stomach, a sense that something bad was about to happen. Not that he believed in premonitions or anything, but not believing them did not make the knot in his stomach go away.

He knocked on the Dean's door and he was welcomed in with a sad smile. He didn't remember much after the words, 'Sorry to tell you that your grandfather has passed.' The Dean talked for a few minutes but weirdly all he could remember was how warm the room was and how the light shot through the navy-blue curtains behind the man's desk. He thanked the Dean, he promised to notify them of his plans, they shook hands and Mac left, as quickly as he could. He sat alone in the bowels of the basement for the rest of the afternoon; it was a place in the university that was supposed to off limits but was also unofficial hang out to all the people in his lab group. Right now, everyone would be busy and he had counted on that. He needed to be along, he needed to think.

He really was all alone now, it felt different then he thought. He felt numb and detached like he was watching someone else's life on a TV show. He knew his grandfather hadn't been well but the unexpected turn in his health still came as a shock. At some point soon, the grief would hit him, but right now he was able to separate himself from it.

He was alone… he was alone…. He was alone. The thoughts raced through his head in a relentless loop. He still had Boozer, but his best friend was finishing his last year of high school in California. There was Frankie, but Mac was pretty sure how he felt about her wasn't shared back, at least not in the same way.

Then there was MIT, the actual costs to be there were high, his grandfather had saved up some money, but it wasn't really needed due to his Scholarship, so Mac did have a bit of a nest egg. But now university seemed pointless… almost indulgent. Like any kid, he had been excited about going at first, his first steps out on his own. The reality of MIT was different. While the classes were more challenging than high school, where were they taking him? The rest of his life in a lab standing over beakers, could he make a difference to the world that way? Maybe but it would take years. He was tired of waiting, tired of people leaving him, dying on him, tired of waiting to make a difference. Was he going to school just to get his diploma? Surely there was more to life than just that piece of paper. His mother had died; his father had ditched him like yesterday's news, now his grandfather had left him to. He was tired of fate making decisions for him. Now it was time to make his own, and if he died doing it, well maybe he would make a difference, and he wouldn't have to wait and no one would be left crying. Mac quit MIT the next day and joined the army.

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Mac was awake for a moment before he was even aware that he was. His ears were ringing, and he felt floaty and detached, a feeling he had become all too familiar with the last few hours, it was comfortable, but with a blanket of anxiety on top. Something was wrong and he knew it instinctually, but his brain wasn't willing to supply to supply him with any input at the moment. He also knew this is what it felt like when you got blown up. A feeling he knew required more attention then he was giving it, there was another quick and sharp feeling of pain as his brain started to reboot.

He opened his eyes but had to blink a few times before things came in to focus. The windshield looked funny. That was because it was upside down. Crap. He could hear someone talking, someone dangerous. Where was Jack? He tried to move but something was stopping him. Then the face that had been dogging him all day appeared. He jumped despite himself. Murdock's voice full of sarcasm and dread caused Mac to try to move away, but he was stuck. Metal pinned him in place, he did his best not to panic, but his breathing increased anyways and darkness crowded his vision once again. Mac hated being trapped.

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Mac and Jack had been surveying an older building on the edge of a town called Barg-e Matal. They were scouting ahead for a group of Navy Seals who wanted to use what was once a small two-story home for surveillance for a few hours. Intelligence believed since roads in the area were so bad that the Taliban were using the nearby river to move stolen American weapons, on small rafts, to another village downstream. The house overlooked the river and was a great vantage point, for the seals to attempt to regain the stolen arms. However, the building needed to be cleared of any booby traps left by the local militia before they _'frogmen'_ arrived. Shelling in the area had been hot and heavy, causing the small house to tremble more than once. The noise was incredible.

Jack wiggled his pinky in his he left ear in a vain attempt to dull the ringing from the last explosion when yet another shell hit a little too close to their location.

With a large boom Jack flew off his feet, Mac let out a strangled yelp as he was enveloped by a cloud of dust which caused him to disappeared from Jack view.

Jack shook his head and climbed to his feet, the dust was settling quickly, but Mac did not reappear. The Delta force Sergeant started to get a sinking feeling in his stomach.

'Mac?!'

In the basement, MacGyver blinked and jerked at the sound of his name. 'Mac, where are you!?" the voice echoed off the erm…. walls? The voice had a distinct southern drawl that he would know anywhere, the problem was where was he again?

'Ja…..' he started to call out to his buddy, but sand and dust caked his throat causing him to choke and cough instead.

The coughing accomplished the same as what his shout would have and suddenly Jacks head was sticking out over the edge of the hole ten feet above him looking down. 'What are you doing down there?'

'You know, just laying around.' Mac rasped.

'Well now is not the time for that, the SEALS are going to be around soon! You hurt?'

Mac wasn't sure, to tell the truth; he hadn't really had time to take stock yet, his whole body felt kind of numb. His ears were ringing from the explosion, and his head hurt too, he wasn't sure if that was from the blast wave or the fall. He pushed up with his elbows a bit and then he noticed something else, something that might be a bit of a problem. 'Ummm Jack, I think I might need a bit of help? '

Jack reached back and pulled his flashlight from his pack and flickering it around where Mac was lying. A large chunk of the cement floor that he had fallen through had landed on Mac's legs pinning him. 'I'm going to look for the stairs and I'll give you a hand.'

Mac was looking around the area where he had landed, it looked odd for the type of home. The basement seemed bigger than the building above it, Mac squinted in the semi-darkness. There was a piece of what looked like plywood lying across one wall. You would have thought that would have fallen over in the multiple explosions rocking the area… unless. Yup hinges, a door to a tunnel probably. And it was headed in the direction of the river. At least they knew now how things were getting smuggled down to the water without being seen.

Then he heard a noise, no it was a voice, and it wasn't Jack's.

Mac's heart started to gallop as he struggled to pull his legs free from the cement floor. With a mighty heave, he managed to pull his left leg out. His ankle throbbed but seemed otherwise okay. The voices were getting louder.

 _Where was Jack?_

There were three voices, speaking what sounded like Pashto, and they were definitely getting closer.

Mac started to panic pulling at his right leg, he could feel something tear deep in the muscles, but he still couldn't move it.

Suddenly, a hand covered his mouth cutting off his startled shout. Suddenly Jacks face was close to his. Mac stared at him with frantic eyes but Jack did not immediately remove his hand. Jack looked wrecked, he was covered in dust and bled from a small cut above his eyebrow. Apparently getting down to the basement hadn't been an easy venture. Mac tried to speak through his hand but Jack pushed his friends head down to the dirt while giving him the hand symbol indicating silence.

The voices where nearly at the tunnel entrance, Mac tried pulling his leg again frantically. Jack put more pressure on the hand covering his mouth and Mac looked up meeting the older man's eyes. Jack was mimicking taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, then looked at Mac expectantly. Getting the idea, he tried to copy the breaths Jack was taking. Jack finally let go of his face and patted him on the shoulder, before stepping away to grab some nearby debris.

Mac turned his head toward the tunnel and he could see light coming from under the door. Pulling on his leg again all be it slightly less frantically. Jack, obviously noticed and in a nearly silent whisper growled at him, 'Be still and breath.'

Mac did his best to focus on breathing and not on the bad guys getting closer. Sure, he had been in lots of tight situations before, pun intended. ( _Jack would be proud_.) However, he had never been trapped like this before. He now understood what a rabbit in a snare must feel like, and it wasn't alright. Mac always prided himself on his ability to compartmentalize, focus on the facts and not feelings, but for some reason now his emotions were getting the best of him. His head hurt, but he had mostly blocked that stimuli out it in mad attempt to escape. Concussion maybe? He took a deep measured breath and rolled his head towards Jack.

Jack had started to pull some broken wood, pieces of cement and what looked like a hundred-year-old mouse eaten tarp towards him. Quickly he started to pile the stuff on and around the young EOD specialist. With a final quick pat on the shoulder, Jack pulled the old tarp over Mac's head and tucked himself into the deep shadows of basement, weapon drawn. He no sooner did that when the homemade plywood door opened.

Three burly looking men, all with automatics, stood in the door arguing about something. Mac could just seem them through one of the small holes in the tarp. He tried not to take a deep breath; heck he was worried he was blinking too loudly. One of the men stopped talking when he saw some something off to the side. Mac couldn't see what he saw, without giving away his position.

Suddenly there was a loud electronic screech and Mac jumped despite himself.

The men started talking again, this time louder and more agitated as they started to search the room.

'Well, shit.' Came the very distinct southern drawl of Jack Dalton, followed by the loud popping sound of gunfire.

Mac pulled off the tarp, quickly searching for his friend. 'Jack! You okay?'

Jack was by his side in an instant. 'Yeah, yeah, but their friends will have heard the shots, let's get you out of here.'

Mac rose himself up on his elbows looking around the room. 'What gave us away?'

'They found your radio, it was smashed, must have been pulled off your BDU's when you fell.'

Mac's eyes found the dead bodies of the men that came from the tunnels and he frowned, he always hated when it came down to shooting people. Jack nudged him in the shoulder with his knee. 'Its, not something I enjoy either you know?' Obviously reading the younger man's face. 'But I am not about to let them kill the only good thing in this whole damned war, even if that thing is an annoying pain in the ass EOD that can't follow orders worth shit.'

Mac smiled, 'Get me out, Jack.'

'Always brother, always.'

Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

After Jack had pulled Mac from the Humvee, the three agents, Mac, Cage, and Jack were forced to spend the night in Phoenix medical. Mack and Jack put up their usual stink about having to stay in any type of medical facility while Cage laughed at their antics. Jack had a concussion, Cage had some broken ribs, and Mac would be on crutches for a few weeks.

Mac fidgeted in his bed with ice packs across both his ankles, he was exhausted but also completely wired by the day's events. Plus, he felt more than useless while Murdock had gotten away once again, it felt wrong to just sit here, and he couldn't help it when his eyes kept floating towards the door.

'Don't even think about it Blondie!' His boss's voice bounced off the walls as she, Bowser and Riley entered by a side door.

'What?' he replied innocently, 'I wasn't thinking about anything.'

Maddie smiled obviously in a joking mood. 'Now I know you're lying, your big brain never stops for a minute.'

The others jumped into the fun then, arguing about all the possibilities where Mac might not actually be thinking about something.

'In the shower.' Riley offered

Bowser started to pull out sandwiches out of a brown paper bag and handing them out to everyone in the room. 'Nah, no way. He would be calculating the speed which the water flowed through the pipes or something.'

Mac couldn't help but add his own two cents in then. 'Its fluid dynamics actually and the dispersion of …'

'Yeah, yeah.' Replied Jack, 'Bowser, do you have ham?'

The argument continued as they ate when suddenly Bowser plunked a can of orange crush on his hospital tray. His friend's debate continued but Mac's attention was on the pop and the wave of memories it brought with him. Bowser didn't know, no one did, why would he even mention it? Bowser was handing out pop to everyone.

Mac watched as condensation dripped down the side of the can. The last time he had one was when he was little, fixing the motorcycle with his dad. So much had changed in his life since then.

Family….

Mac looked around the room at his friends. Yeah, a lot of things had changed, but he was still with his family and really that's all that mattered.

Mac popped the can and took a sip.

End

Thanks for reading


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